


It's Not a Side Effect of the Cocaine, I Am Thinking It Must Be Love

by just_folie_a_deux_it



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mob AU, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-17
Updated: 2018-04-17
Packaged: 2019-04-23 23:56:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14343642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_folie_a_deux_it/pseuds/just_folie_a_deux_it
Summary: A day in the life of Brendon and Ryan in an AU where Ryan is in charge of his own mob





	It's Not a Side Effect of the Cocaine, I Am Thinking It Must Be Love

Brendon wakes to the sound of gunshots. While anyone else might find themselves terrified, if not dead, he just blinks slowly and takes a moment to gather himself. The room is almost entirely dark; there’s only a small sliver of Sunlight that pushes through the crack of the blackout curtains covering the windows, and Brendon winces at the brightness that falls across his eyes. Sunlight used to be what woke him every morning, not the noise of bullets firing, but Ryan has trouble enough sleeping in so Brendon hung up the curtains in hopes of getting his boyfriend a few more hours of rest. Obviously, that has not worked seeing as now Brendon can hear muffled shouts and the thud of bodies hitting the floor.

He sighs softly, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair as he sits up. It’s just too fucking early for this shit. Shoving the dark red sheets away from their place draped around his waist, Brendon stands and stretches, stifling a yawn that threatens to break his jaw. He glances around for a pair of boxers and spots one of Ryan’s on the floor, bending down to snatch them up and tug them on. Ryan keeps the room too damn hot to sleep in anything, and even naked Brendon wakes up uncomfortably warm and sweaty. Rubbing at his eyes and fighting another yawn, he pulls the bedroom door open and pads down the hall towards the strained grunts and thumps that are steadily growing louder.

“If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were cheating on me,” Brendon says, pushing the door open to the sight of Ryan in a headlock, struggling on the ground.

Spencer looks up with a grin, tightening his grip just slightly and making Ryan kick at the ground. “Good morning. You know I wouldn’t have sex with him for all of the illegal drug money in the world.”

Brendon shakes his head, though he’s smiling. “So what, did you get tired of shooting at each other and decided your bare fists were the only suitable weapons for killing each other?”

“ _I_ was just doing target practice,” Ryan grunts, trying to throw an elbow back into Spencer’s ribs and failing miserably. “And then this asshole showed up and started to try and tell me how to do my fuckin’ job.”

Spencer rolls his eyes and shifts, rolling so that Ryan is on his stomach with Spencer’s knee digging into the small of his back. “I wasn’t trying to tell you how to do your job, I just said if you can’t get a straight headshot on a target that’s standing perfectly still that isn’t _alive_ you should probably consider a new profession. And then you tackled me.”

Ryan just growls and twists his head over his shoulder to glare at his best friend. “The only reason I didn’t make the shot was because you snuck up behind me and scared the shit out of me.”

“Shouldn’t be so easy to sneak up on.” Spencer shrugs, ruffling Ryan’s hair before pushing up and brushing his pants off. “It’s too damn easy to kill a guy who doesn’t know you’re there.”

“As if I don’t know that,” Ryan grumbles, shoving himself up off of the ground and attempting to smooth down his hair. “Why don’t you go harass Jon? At least he likes you somewhat.”

“Don’t make me put you in another chokehold,” Spencer hums, winking over at Brendon before going for the door. “Good luck with him today, B, he’s grouchy!”

Ryan glowers at the spot Spencer was for just a moment before turning to Brendon, expression softening. “Did we wake you?”

Brendon nods, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Ryan’s middle. “Yes,” he says simply. “But I’ll forgive you if you get me doughnuts for breakfast.”

Ryan chuckles and tips his head forward, just barely resting it against Brendon’s. “What is it going to take for you to understand that the first thing anyone thinks of when they see you licking white dust off of your fingers is not going to be that you were eating powdered sugar doughnuts?”

Brendon shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me. What are they gonna do, arrest me?” He teases. “As if my boyfriend isn’t in charge of over half of L.A’s cocaine distribution.”

Ryan shakes his head and presses his lips gently to Brendon’s. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Feed me; you know how quickly I get grumpy if I’m hungry.” Brendon noses against Ryan’s cheek and gently nips at his jaw. “When’s the last time you shaved? You’re scratchy.”

“Baby, it’s nearly the end of the month which means I have to go over all of the accounts, and you know if someone is late I have to deal with that too, so I have to say that having a smooth face hasn’t been one of my top priorities.” Ryan hums, rubbing his stubbled cheek over Brendon’s.

Brendon frowns, looking up into Ryan’s warm brown eyes. “You work too hard. I know I always say it, but you never listen. You know it’s not very frightening to meet the head of a mafia, and then when he’s about to dish out some divine judgement or some shit, he faints because he hasn’t eaten in nearly three fuckin’ days.”

Ryan rolls his eyes, pulling back and ruffling Brendon’s hair before letting his hand fall and take Brendon’s gently. “I’ve eaten, Bren, you literally fed me my sandwich last night.”

“Because you hadn’t eaten breakfast or lunch!” Brendon cries. “You keep forgetting because you’re too busy working. You haven’t even been paying attention to me,” He adds, tone shifting to a sullen, pouty whine.

He can see Ryan fighting back an amused smile and resents it immediately, huffing and crossing his arms.

“I’m sorry, pumpkin, I just don’t want to get behind on anything. What happens when you leave openings?” He asks, as he has tens of millions of times before, ever since the first time Brendon was nearly killed by a bullet that had ricocheted off of the wall.

“People stab you or shoot you or poison you or kidnap you,” He sighs, dropping his head. “And don’t ‘pumpkin’ me, I’m still mad at you.”

Ryan nods and lifts Brendon’s chin up, pressing his lips ever-so-softly to the younger boy’s. “That’s right, you die. And I don’t know what I would do if anything ever happened to you, so I have to do my work so you stay safe.”

Brendon presses into Ryan, arms coming up to wrap around his neck. “Can’t you just take a break? A little one, just for me? Eat breakfast with me, I’ll make you whatever you want.”

“Darling, the last time you tried cooking we had to hide two entire shipments of coke we had just gotten in because I didn’t have any connections in the fire department and they would have had all of us arrested as soon as they got that fire put out.” Ryan laughs.

The fire in Brendon’s eyes is ten times hotter than whatever may— or may not have—happened whenever he was trying to cook Ryan a romantic dinner. “See if I ever do anything nice for you ever again.”

Ryan just smiles though, and bends down to gently kiss Brendon as his hands come up to cradle the younger boy’s face. “I appreciate every single thing you do, I promise. I just don’t want to have to dig up a thirty-pound bag of cocaine again if I don’t have to. How about we take a shower? I know I can’t smell great, and you’re sweating too.”

“Well if you didn’t keep our room ten-thousand fucking degrees,” Brendon mumbles, though he lets Ryan take his hand and lace their fingers together, leading him out the door and down the hall.

“How else am I supposed to stay alive when I have a heart made of ice?” Ryan grins, glancing back at Brendon over his shoulder. “My blood will literally freeze if I don’t stay warm enough.”

Brendon can’t fight the smile that breaks across his face. “You’re a damn liar, you know that? I know for a fact that you’re not the stone cold mafia boss who would kill a man as soon as look at him. You’re just a soft little marshmallow who plays mean when he thinks people are looking.”

Ryan arches a brow. “You think I’m soft?”

“I know you’re soft. I watched you cry over Marley and Me two weeks ago.” Brendon smirks.

“I have killed hundreds, if not thousands of men in my lifetime.” Ryan’s brow lifts a fraction higher.

Brendon shrugs. “Soft.”

Ryan just stops and lets go of Brendon’s hand. “Last week you watched me dismember the corpse of a known serial rapist after I slowly and painfully murdered him _after_ I drove nails through his testicles.”

Brendon gives a noncommittal noise. “S-o-f-t.”

Ryan bends down and wraps his arms around Brendon’s thighs, standing straight and throwing Brendon over his shoulder like one might a sack of flour. “I’ll show you soft.”

Brendon gives a gleeful shriek, kicking lightly and playfully pounding his fists against Ryan’s back. “Unhand me, beast!”

He can feel Ryan laugh beneath him, and as he watches the far end of the hallway grow smaller, he rolls his eyes and goes limp.

“Giving up?” Ryan calls back. “Won’t make torturing you very much fun if you don’t put up a little fight.”

Brendon doesn’t respond, but he does tug the hem of Ryan’s shirt up and dig his nails into his boyfriend’s back, dragging them up and leaving angry red marks behind. He feels Ryan shudder and for a moment, almost worries he may get dropped, but if anything the grip behind his knees grows tighter.

“I promise you, misbehaving will only get you into more trouble.” Ryan’s voice is low and rough, and it makes Brendon feel like lava is bubbling in his stomach and ice cold water has been dumped on him all at once.

He hears Ryan push the door to their bedroom open and suddenly he’s flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling from his spot sprawled across the bed. Ryan is carefully shutting the door, but he turns and crosses his arms to gaze at Brendon for a long moment afterward. His eyes are dark, his stare steady and unwavering and Brendon feels his fists tighten in the sheets.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” Ryan asks, stepping forward until he’s hovering over Brendon, arms braced on either side of him.

“I suppose that really depends on whether you deserve for me to be a good boy for you.” Brendon smiles, ignoring the way his heart pounds in his throat.

Ryan smiles too, though it’s wicked and something behind his eyes give the promise that Brendon is going to eat his words. “Wrong answer,” he whispers, pressing his lips to Brendon’s for just a moment before pulling back and going towards the closet.

Brendon blinks and takes the moment Ryan has his back turned to compose himself. They haven’t gotten to play in ages and he’s almost forgotten how thrilling it can be. Briefly, he prays he won’t have a heart attack.

Ryan comes back with rope looped around one hand and a silk blindfold in the other. “You’ve got one more chance to convince me you’ll behave.”

“You’re gonna have to make me.” Brendon grins.

Within the span of a split second, Ryan’s snatched both of his wrists in one hand and pinned them above his head. “Oh don’t you worry, I intend to.”

Brendon blinks, eyes widening a fraction as Ryan tugs him up far enough that his hands brush the headboard. Ryan makes quick work of tying him to the bars above him, arms over his head and hands hanging limply.

“Lift your head,” Ryan murmurs, voice soft in stark comparison to the way he tangles his fingers in Brendon’s hair and yanks him up.

Brendon gives a soft yelp, more surprised than pained, and he feels his cock twitch between his legs. Something smooth and soft brushes his forehead before everything goes black. He can feel Ryan tying the blindfold behind his head, tight enough it won’t slip but not so tight he’ll have a headache.

“What’s your safeword?” Ryan asks softly, tone gentle now, though Brendon knows that isn’t going to last.

“Lunar,” Brendon breathes.

“Good boy,” Ryan murmurs, and Brendon feels the soft brush of fingertips against his jawline. He tilts his head up, lips parting.

He can hear Ryan moving off of the bed and his head turns towards where he thinks the sound is coming from. “Ryan?”

“Don’t speak until I say you’re allowed.” Ryan’s voice comes from somewhere to Brendon’s left.

Brendon gives a small noise, but bites down on his bottom lip and nods. He thinks he can hear footsteps, like Ryan’s walking away, but he can’t be sure. It feels like hours before Ryan’s weight settles back on the bed and Brendon lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The feeling of smooth leather sliding down his thigh makes him tense up. He can’t be sure what it is, but the toy skates along the top of his leg before slipping down to run across the inside of his thigh, making the muscles clench.

“You’ll be my good boy now, won’t you?” Ryan asks, his voice much closer now.

Brendon’s not sure if he’s supposed to answer or not, but he takes a chance. “You haven’t done anything to make me think I need to.”

A low chuckle sounds and it makes goosebumps erupt across Brendon’s skin. “I haven’t?” A sharp smack sounds and Brendon feels a stinging pain on his stomach. “How about now?”

It’s the riding crop, Brendon just fucking knows it. The pain on his abdomen ebbs away slowly just in time for another swat to hit the inside of his thigh. This time he gives a quiet cry, flinching. He silently wills his slowly hardening cock down, but he knows it won’t work.

“You like it, don’t even try and pretend.” Ryan laughs, and the crop goes from skimming across Brendon’s collar bone to running down his chest and swirling around his navel, resting against his hip.

Brendon doesn’t respond this time, not for the sake of being good but because he’s focusing on not cumming on the spot. It really has been too long since they’ve played.

Ryan’s hand replaces the crop, warm on Brendon’s hip and his thumb rubs small circles into his skin. “You’re just my painslut, aren’t you? Just a toy for me to use and abuse.” The small triangle of leather runs up the underside of Brendon’s cock and he gasps, hips bucking up of their own accord. “Just a fucking slut.” Ryan clicks his tongue.

“Ryan, please—”

A sharp rap to the spot where his thigh meets his ass makes Brendon choke on the words, head falling back with a low groan.

“I thought I told you not to speak without permission,” Ryan murmurs. “Do I need to punish you? Should I fuck you and not let you cum?”

Brendon quickly shakes his head, forcing a whimper in his throat back down.

“Then shut the fuck up, bitch.” Ryan’s voice never changes from the low, easy tone, but it still makes Brendon shudder.

Calloused fingers run up Brendon’s chest and lightly wrap around his throat for a moment before sliding up his jaw and pressing against his lips.

“Better get them wet, if you want this to feel good.” Hot air ghosts over Brendon’s ear and he parts his lips, immediately drawing Ryan’s fingers into his mouth and sucking. A low groan sounds in his ear and Brendon might smirk if his mouth weren’t full. “Like that, fuck, your mouth was made for this shit, wasn’t it?”

Ryan’s free hand wraps around Brendon’s cock and he nearly chokes, hips snapping up into the touch immediately. There’s no movement, but it’s still enough for Brendon to feel himself starting to leak over Ryan’s knuckles.

“What a needy little slut you are, already so hard for me, so wanting,” Ryan hums, pushing his fingers deeper into Brendon’s mouth, digits pushing the back of his throat.

Brendon moans in response, trying to push his hips up into Ryan’s fist.

“Ah, ah, not yet. Be good,” Ryan says firmly, finally drawing his fingers out.

A little bit of spit runs down Brendon’s chin, but he hardly notices as Ryan pries his legs apart and circles one wet fingertip around his entrance, teasing. Brendon whines, trying to roll his hips down to no avail; he doesn’t have much range of motion with his wrists tied tight above him. Ryan laughs, though, and the finger pushes in to the first knuckle making Brendon hiss.

“Does it hurt?” Ryan asks, though his tone indicates he isn’t terribly concerned.

Brendon shakes his head. It’s not fucking enough.

“Look at you, behaving now like a good little boy,” Ryan coos, and the finger pushes in further, soon joined by a second.

Brendon moans, teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he spreads his legs wider, silently begging for more.

Ryan complies, and after a moment the two fingers brush right against Brendon’s spot and make him cry out, loud enough that he surprises himself.

“There?” Ryan hums, and Brendon feels lips brush against his jaw, snaking down to kiss his throat.

“Please,” Brendon whispers.

“Please what?” Ryan asks, nipping at the spot where Brendon’s heart thrums strongest against his skin.

“Please more, Ryan, please,” Brendon begs, tilting his head back.

His fists are clenched tight, nails biting into his palms. Ryan’s going too slow, if he doesn’t hurry up Brendon might just explode.

As if on cue, Ryan pushes a third finger in, all three as deep as they can get and he slowly rubs against the same spot as before.

Brendon moans, throwing his head back now and rolling his hips down onto the digits as best he can. “There, yes, fuck, please!”

Ryan’s free hand comes up to rub at Brendon’s hip. “Shh, calm down now. I’ve got you.” His teeth sink into the spot on Brendon’s throat where his pulse beats hardest and Brendon feels his breath catch. Ryan’s sucking hard, fingers thrusting in and out of Brendon at the same time. There’ll be a bruise tomorrow morning, dark and prominent on Brendon’s neck; he can’t wait. After a moment, Ryan pulls back. “You want one more or are you ready?”

“Ready, ready, I’m ready, fuck,” Brendon gasps, jerking his wrists against the restraints without thinking.

He feels Ryan shift over him, fingers pulling out and hands pushing his legs up over Ryan’s shoulders as the tip of his cock brushes Brendon’s hole. A shiver takes his entire body and he tugs at the ropes biting into his wrists again.

“Okay, okay, needy little thing,” Ryan coos, pushing in. He’s not slow, but he does take his time sliding inside of Brendon until his hips are flush against his boyfriend’s, and then he stills.

Brendon relishes in the feeling of being full to the brim, but it doesn’t last long; he _needs_ Ryan to start moving. He tries wriggling, but Ryan’s got a firm grasp on his hips, holding him still and pushing him down into the mattress. A high-pitched whine leaves his throat and he whimpers.

“Fuck, baby boy, give me a second. You’re so fucking tight,” Ryan groans, and Brendon feels his forehead rest against his own.

After a moment, there is movement, just a little rock of Ryan’s hips back and then forward. He groans again and Brendon thinks he could get off just from that sound alone. His fingers twitch as he forces himself to wait for Ryan to pick things up, almost shaking from need. Finally, Ryan pulls back and gives a sharp thrust back in causing Brendon to yelp. He repeats the motion and Brendon moans, nodding.

“Like that, fuck, Ry, like that.”

Ryan laughs, a little breathless, and thrusts in again, setting up a steady, unforgiving rhythm that makes Brendon’s toes curl in pleasure. He knows he won’t last long and fuck he hopes Ryan’s thinking the same thing. As Ryan pounds into him relentlessly, one hand comes up and snatches the blindfold off of Brendon’s head.

Blinking quickly as he tries readjusting to the light, Brendon gazes up at Ryan and gasps softly. Despite the way his hair is sticking to his forehead and his cheeks are a bright red, Ryan still looks like the most beautiful thing Brendon’s ever seen. His lashes flutter as his head falls back, and his eyes close once more.

“No,” Ryan growls, one hand coming up to grip Brendon’s jaw and force his head back up. “You look at me.”

Brendon swallows, panting softly, but nods. Oh hell, he really isn’t gonna last. He can already feel warmth building low in his stomach, pooling there dangerously.

“R-Ry, fuck, m’close,” Brendon whispers, face contorting as Ryan slams right into his spot. “Ryan!”

Ryan nods and quickly presses his lips to Brendon, keeping his pace and angling his hips so he hits Brendon’s prostate dead on. “You don’t have to wait, baby, c’mon.”

Brendon gives another high-pitched whine and finally lets go, spilling all over his stomach with a soft shout. His entire body seizes for a moment, fists clenching tight and nails making his palms sting. It seems to go on forever, the waves that roll over him like the ocean in an unforgiving storm. He barely registers Ryan’s cry and the warmth that fills him with no warning. Finally, it all seems to calm and he finds Ryan gently pulling his wrists down and massaging them, pressing a kiss to each one.

“You did so good,” Ryan smiles, laying down and pulling Brendon into his arms.

They’re sweaty, and there’s a sticky mess between them but Brendon can’t even begin to make himself care. His eyelids are heavy and he just has time to hear Ryan start singing to him quietly before he falls asleep in the golden haze surrounding them both.

\---

This time when Brendon wakes it’s to absolute silence. The room is a few degrees cooler now that there’s no blinding Sunlight blaring down on him, only the soft not-quite-white-grey of the Moon leaking through the small crack the closed curtains leave. His wrists ache, and though he can’t see it, he’s sure there are angry red marks circling them. When he rolls over to press into the warm body that’s _supposed_ to be next to him, he’s just met with empty space and cool sheets that have long since been abandoned. Rubbing his eyes to clear the sleep from them, Brendon sits up and tugs the sheets around himself. As he walks out the door, they trail after him almost like a cape.

The halls are dark, and the only reason Brendon can see at all is because he can just make out a thin rectangle of yellow light splaying across the floor ahead of him. He has no doubt Ryan is in his office, probably going through the details of a new contract. Brendon heads right for the light and pushes the door open and blinking quickly, squinting in the sudden brightness.

Ryan looks up from where he’s got his head resting in one hand, elbow planted on the desk as he shuffles through a thick stack of paper. His hair is ruffled and sticking up and there are darkening circles beneath his eyes. “Baby, it’s late, what are you doing?”

“Come back to bed,” He croaks quietly, voice raw and rough from sleep.

A soft smile slowly takes up Ryan’s face and he pushes his chair back. “I will in just a second, I just need to finish this up. You need to drink some water, you fell asleep before I could go get you some.”

Brendon shakes his head, pulling the sheets tighter around himself and makes his way around the desk to climb up into Ryan’s lap and curl up. As he rests his cheek firmly against Ryan’s chest, he feels his boyfriend’s arms come up around him and he smiles. “I’ll wait with you.”

“Why are you always so stubborn?” Ryan whispers, and Brendon feels long fingers run through his hair.

“Because if I’m not, you would never listen to me,” Brendon whispers back, smiling slightly.

The sound of Ryan’s quiet laugh vibrates in Brendon’s ear and he presses in just a little closer. He knows it’s going to be a while longer before Ryan actually goes back to bed, but the dim light coming from the lamp on his desk and the soft sound of Ryan’s pen scratching out clauses in the contract aren’t enough to keep Brendon from falling back asleep, so he does just that.


End file.
